Come Back to the Sea
by peachtree3
Summary: Nessian AU loosely-based on the Little Mermaid and my contribution to #Mermay


**Chapter 1**

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 **Theme song by Ina Wroldsen, "Sea"**

 **The original first chapter was way longer than this, but I split it in half so it wouldn't start off with one long chapter and continue with only moderately long chapters.**

 **(See the end of the work for more notes.)**

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"She is a mermaid, but approach her with caution. Her mind swims at a depth most would drown in." -J Iron Word

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 _"There is a tale we are told as young sailors, about three sisters who grow up separated from each other. As babies, they cry and cry and cry, so that, maybe, someone will hear them and reunite them once more. But they're never heard by anyone._

 _It is said that only the cauldron heard their cries that day and scorned the world for hurting her children. She sent hatred and plagues, poisoned people's hearts, and still no one listened. It only fueled her rage._

 _Consumed with anger, The cauldron promised, that one day, when the air was clear, the skies dark and grey, when the earth shook, and the sea trembled, the world would finally hear her children's cries._

 _And only the three sisters would be able to save them all from the cauldron's wrath."_

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They used to tell her tales about the fear and death that waited above the surface. That the rays of sunlight glittering in the water enslaved anyone who looked for too long, that the light would only blind the curious. They used to tell her of the greed that consumed those who walked on land; the selfishness and anger that shot out of their mouths like they breathed fire. For they did breathe fire and burned anyone who stood in their way.

When she was especially curious, they would whisper stories in her ear― of people with no names or faces littering the world with the bodies of the men they hated. Humans were malicious creatures who'd kill before they even knew why. Maybe they didn't need a reason.

Humans liked the taste of their flesh, they said, they liked their flesh and their gold. How humans craved their priceless scales and their ruby hearts.

Maybe that's why they trapped her, under the sea. To keep those humans, monsters, far away from her.

She sometimes wondered if it was harder keeping her away from them.

We built these walls for you, they'd say.

They hadn't given her freedom. Or choice. Or power. They had only given her protection, from invisible nets that yearned to take her and imaginary people ready to eat into her with their claws and teeth.

But, it never stopped her from wondering― about the knowledge that consumed them all. If they could have locked her in a tower, they probably would have, because she would never stay behind those city walls. Her curiosity was an urge so bitter and cruel that she could not be trapped in the deep depths of indigo and night.

It's why she often found herself close to shallow waters, where the rocks met the sea. The jagged ends of stone sharp against her fingertips. A bit more pressure and she'd be surrounded by fish, seaweed, and the cerulean that pulsed beneath her skin. A person of her status should never bleed, she could hear them chastise. But, there was a reason this place was her favorite.

Nesta wasn't supposed to be here, she wasn't supposed to go out of the castle walls, or out of the city drenched in sea fire and crystals. All merpeople were forbidden here, but like the many walls they built to keep her in, it had yet to stop her.

They will kill you, they shouted. They will free me, she roared.

In some ways the humans did. They offered her another world, another life, another body that was not her own. One that could dance, and write, and read, and go. Anywhere, that wasn't down below and far out of reach. If Nesta wanted to know about freedom, she needed only to swim a little farther than her brethren allowed.

Like the many stories they told her, her exploration into the forbidden had started with a book. One day, when she had run far faster than the guards chasing after her, she had a glimpse of the fragmented pages sinking down and down, further into the abyss. Nesta had never seen one, didn't even know how to read one, but it called to her like a dream. She swam to it, tried to collect its fragile binding and its delicate petals. They only cascaded around her, a whirlpool of possibilities.

When she examined the pages she captured, soaked with salt and sea, the ink ran like blood in her hands, and the pages crumbled to dust.

Nesta was fond of the sea, it had been her constant companion since the day she was born. It had been the only family she needed and the only family she had. But she resented the water that day, for what it took from her. What it kept from her.

She had released the paper in defeat and watched it drift down below into the darkness that hummed so loud she covered her ears.

Nesta never swam below that great abyss, though it called to her lovingly, whispered her name like a story she had always wanted to hear. But as there were tales about the dangerous, unburdened humans, there were stories about the deep— a trench so dark and menacing that not even the merfolk could spare them the horrors.

She took one look at the darkness, could see nothing beyond the black inky tendrils, and forgot about the book completely. She might have lost many treasures to her fear, and though she chose never to believe in the tales that her nursemaids sang to her, she couldn't ignore the fear of being sucked in to never return. She had been trapped in many places, had grown up in cages far too small, she would not willingly choose to be subjugated again.

But she often found herself wandering to the place where the waves crashed against stone and the great abyss whispered her name.

She found many things there, trinkets and bobbles, and color. She'd imagine the world with the items, how the cloth could be wrapped around her or the string could tie back her hair. How the land could be much better by simple inventions and handiwork. It fascinated her completely.

She kept it all a secret. No one would ever find out, about the treasures she hid past the palace walls. There was only so many rules she could break, before they decided there wasn't enough.

This time was no different than any of the other times. Except the water was a little warmer, she noted. The deep a little quieter, the trench a little less frightening. The whole ocean was calm, patient even, as it seemed to be waiting.

Nesta waited with it—for the metal sticks with its tiny prongs and the wet paper that turned to mush, floating through the water like she imagined specks of dust in the sky. But nothing glided down the sea. Even the fish swimming around her seemed to wait patiently for the world to collapse.

In the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of something she had never seen before, not in these waters that were deep enough to scare the meridian.

Something glittered, she watched it swim across the waters. The object blinked like unsuspecting eyes. It wasn't the sunlight though some part of her yearned to feel it. When she put her hand through it, the dot centered on her palm. Her gaze followed the trail to the surface.

The light called to her, entranced some innate part of her that wanted to know. There were many things she wasn't allowed to do, many things they kept her away from, but she yearned to know everything. As much as it would take to live.

Nesta was so focused on following the light, she never even noticed the fish swimming away, pushing and shoving their way past her. She never even noticed the net.

It enclosed around her slowly, and she pushed around its webbed lies and the school still fighting against their fate. She thrashed and kicked and screamed and nothing budged, Nesta only watched as the trench got darker and farther away, only watched the trench watching her with its obsidian eyes and shallow heart. She swore she could hear it cry out her name.

She stared at it, reaching out as if it would take hold of her hand and pull. She wouldn't stop fighting the net, even as the abyss did not come to her aid. The fish seemed to wail, but their eyes told her they had already given up. Nesta wondered if they thought she should do the same. But, Nesta would never stop fighting for her freedom.

She screamed, urging the water to help her unravel the net, and nothing. It remained calm around her as she wailed, as she pushed, as her heard surfaced above water, as it became hard to breathe when the water rushed out of her lungs. It scorned her very being in its refusal to help. In that moment, she hated the sea for what it did to her.

But, the water did not protect her.

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Nesta looked through the webbing and imagined herself soaring through a sea of clouds and mist, a place where griffins or dragons would grab her with sharp talons and take her far away. A princess and a prisoner.

Being above the water had been exciting to dream as a child, frightening to live as she waited for the string to sever and the rope to snap. Dangling above the sea made her wish she had wings instead of a tail. Though it wouldn't have helped her either when she was captured in a net.

It wasn't unusual for her to dream of other bodies when she felt trapped by her own; it wasn't unreasonable as she hung above the precipice. But every time she thought of another life, another body, another name, she could never see herself without some sort of cage, no matter how pretty that cage turned out to be.

She grasped the rope and yanked. As it did not budge in the water, it did not budge in the sky. She tried clawing at it with her teeth—her canines sharp against the steady material. The rope did not break. All those times Nesta dreamed, she didn't expect to yearn for the deep or wish that someone would help her. She hated the ocean even more for that.

She swished back and forth, knotting the rope between her fingers. In the distance she could hear bellowing whistles and thundering footsteps. Nesta was almost furious that the net that had taken her was now her only safety measure.

"Captain! I think we've got something," she could hear a man yell through the fog. Young if she were to guess, though she had nothing to compare it to.

She looked around, searching for pairs of legs and hideous faces. Monsters that hid their fury in their eyes. She grasped at the webbing as it jerked forward. Nesta resisted the urge to hide behind silver scales.

"Woah, boys, steady. Lower the net!" Another called, the voice rougher than the other had been, stronger perhaps. Someone more forceful.

In time with his words, the net seemed to lower. The mist cleared a path for her and her innocent gaze. Her body jerked back and forth, but she held on, closing her eyes and pretending it was all a dream. It was only a story.

Her head felt like it was in a bubble and it only popped when the net lowered. Her back ached from the brunt force of the wood. She splashed around the like poor fish gasping for water. Her face hot, the air around her stale and hard. Her chest beat fast, her body convulsing from the pressure.

Sparks of white light danced in her irises. Nesta could feel the earth move beneath her, but it was not her friend. This world seemed to laugh at her, mock her for ever believing she could surpass her birthright.

Nesta heard gasps between bouts of motion sickness. She imagined them surrounding her, sharks intimidating their prey. The rough tune of words made her grasp her tail closer to her body. If she didn't turn, she couldn't see them. If she couldn't see them, they didn't exist.

This time she was the one telling lies.

"Look what we have here." He said at last, tapping his foot, urging her to dance to the rhythm. Only then did she look up at his monstrosity.

His face was trapped between young boy and old man. His cheeks were round and red, but the rest of his skin crinkled as his face moved.

Nesta couldn't really tell his age. Mer-people tended to grow rapidly and rarely did they ever age past what humans deemed standard adulthood. She had met many people who were over 500 years old and rarely did they ever look a day past her own age.

This man however looked both eternal and damned. Like the bitter air had sucked his youth away and replaced it with trouble and deceit. She looked past his gruesome smile and wondered if he too had teeth that extended into sharp points.

He was short and stout with long tendrils of red hair sprouting from the lower half of his face. As he talked, though Nesta could only make up most of his words, she recognized the deep, scratchy tone. She watched him as wet drops of saliva splattered past his mouth and into his beard.

"Release the net." He demanded, jutting his chin towards her. The man he referred to, stepped in front of him, claiming his position of inferiority.

The man examined her with the crazy, bloodshot eyes. He swayed along, grasping the rope and yanking her tail with it, untangling it from her form. She gasped at the pain, but he merely smiled, fascinated by the noises she made.

This man wasn't the only one who looked at her like that. She briefly wondered if perhaps they looked at all females like that. Like animals ready to slaughter and maim and control.

They stared at her like they had found gold. She was their treasure.

Nesta was said to be beautiful, even in comparison to gems and pearls. That's why her people must have loved her so. Her tail glittered like emeralds, her body gleamed like iridescent pearls. Where most merfolk had crustacean shells woven into their skull, she had shells in every color known to coral. Where they had bottomless blue eyes, she had eyes the color of sea glass. They had told stories about her beauty, and yet caged her down below.

She almost wished they had done a better job.

As she looked around, past their hungry gazes, she perused the interior of the ship. It was not what she expected when she had found wooden boards sinking throughout the water. This ship was gangly and old. The wood smelled rotten, and the men smelled worse.

"The king would pay beautifully for her; this whole ship will be swimming in gold."

The man she imagined was the captain laughed. Little bumps appeared on her flesh as she felt the madness make a way up her body.

"Bind her and take her below deck."

The fear twisted a fist in her spine, and she wished she had listened to their idiotic rumors and legends. A thought that made her angry, if only because she was trapped in another set of lies and truths. When they had told her those stories, when they made her want to climb out of her own skin, she should have paid more attention. There must have been some ways these humans could be demolished, like the dust they would become.

Her hatred of them was stronger than her fear.

"Hey Newbie! Tie her up." He chuckled under his breath, "Under Captain's orders."

Most of the group kept their eyes locked on her, though they parted to let this man through. He was larger than the others, she noted. Nesta briefly wondered why they seemed to treat him as the inferior, when he looked like he could kill them all.

His black hair curled around his face and his skin glowed with the sun. She supposed he was marginally cleaner than the rest of them.

The man looked at the man with the rope, thought nothing of it until he looked at her, curled up in the middle of the brigade. Nesta couldn't imagine how she must have looked, but she held onto herself tighter. He grabbed the rope but snatched a piece of cloth from one of the barrels.

The man came towards her, held up his hands as he approached. Her eyes stayed wide and assessing. This human was not going to touch her without losing his fingers, like she had lost her will. But he only held up the large cloth. It was thick, and he seemed to think she was in desperate need.

She was born cold-blooded.

Nesta stared into his eyes, the color she imagined the water would look like when the sun touched the sea. They darkened under her scrutiny, his brows furrowing. He tried reaching out and placing the cloth across her body. She braced herself for the unwanted touch. But the captain slapped the blanket out of his hand, merely staring at her chest.

"She's a fish, not a human."

His eyes never left hers and his expression never changed. He was as mysterious as that great abyss they all feared, Nesta wondered if she should fear him. She couldn't picture humans being anything other than monsters.

He grabbed her arms and tightly wound the rope along the grooves of her wrists, never paying attention to the fear or anger that emanated from her. He didn't care at all. He was just like the other two-legged crazed humans, just like them in a multitude of ways.

He yanked the cloth off the floor and stepped away. He didn't look back once. They'd drag her, she supposed, to another cage.

They had told her many stories. One's that she chose to cherish and ones that she chose to laugh at. About people who came and went on missions to search the great below, where gold was said to be buried under. Nesta had never seen gold outside of the city walls, or where the specks of human filth filtered the water.

But now as she stared at all of them, the men who made her teeth clench, she wondered if maybe she was the treasure they tried to hide—why they built those alabaster walls and pearl encrusted gates and those dreaded, dreaded rules.

There were other stories, too. Of treasures being cursed to those that claimed it. Greed would lead humans to their own demise.

They grabbed her arms, grabbed her tail, and hoisted her across the ship.

She thrashed, kicking and screaming. Because if she was going to be taken like some treasure they had dug up from the sand and sea, she would make them wish they had never cast their net.

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 **Author's Note:**

 **The more and more I write, I learn that I am a complete perfectionist and it's terrible. Took me two weeks to write this one chapter because it wasn't ever good enough to me and every time I thought that I wanted to quit. But I'm no quitter and I actually really planned this story out, and I've written a ton of it already. Editing it just sucks, cause again perfectionist.**

 **Anyways I hope you like. I'm working on more plot based stories now instead of one-shots, since I want to improve on this skill as a writer. Let me know if you liked this fic or the concept. Reading comments doesn't really motivate me to write, I just like writing, but it makes me happy to see all the same. And I encourage all of you to let any author who wrote something you like to let them know even if it's not me (shrugs).**

 **I value and cherish your comments, and I'm sure all fanfic writers feel the same about that.**

 **Long note over :D**


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